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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27740878">Breathe a Sigh</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polanthie/pseuds/Polanthie'>Polanthie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Full Moon Ficlets [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, M/M, Near character death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:22:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>458</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27740878</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polanthie/pseuds/Polanthie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when you turn a Spark?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Full Moon Ficlets [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1992004</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>62</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Full Moon Ficlet Prompt #408: Sigh</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Breathe a Sigh</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>While this is not a death fic it’s damn close.  Please look after yourselves.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Try a little tenderness</em>
  <br/>
  <em>I die a little</em>
  <br/>
  <em>For a long lost sweet caress</em>
</p><p>The bite hurt, there was no getting away from it.  He knew this, he’d seen it often enough, overseen it enough.  Made sure everyone was safe and helped heal where he could.  Even managed to save one from bite rejection.  Though they weren’t telling other packs how he managed that.  Given it had put him on the floor for a good week and scared both his Dad and his mate stupid.</p><p>Stiles had known it would eventually come to this, that his luck would run out and that his magic wouldn’t be able to save him.  He had an agreement, in writing even, stating that if there was no other choice he’d accept the bite.  </p><p>Sparks rarely survived being bitten, their magic fought the change fighting the infection that would turn them.  Burning it out before the Were could take hold and usually taking the Spark along with those flames.</p><p>Those that survived more often than not were shadows of themselves.  Holding on for loved ones, anchored by their mates.  But not really there, there was no accord with their Were, they usually fought it at every turn, only following the pull of the moon when they had no choice.   Living in constant pain and often regret, having lost their magic, lost part of themselves and gained nothing but pain and self hatred in return.  No matter how much they loved and were loved a balance could never be reached.</p><p>He knew what the cost could be but they’d lost too many when they had been revealed to the world.  Hunters and politicians putting pretty words on paper that meant nothing to those who had written them.  He couldn’t do that to Peter, Derek, their pack, his Dad.  Too many losses already.</p><p>So he’d found a way, followed his friends in the First Nations, learnt what they had been willing to teach and made up the rest as he went along.  Yes the bite hurt, burned through his blood, fought his magic - but he’d already met his Were.  Found a path and a place that they could meet.</p><p>He knew there was a scream on his lips, that bones were breaking as his body fought the change, fought to hold on to the one thing that kept it whole.  But he wasn’t there and neither was the Kitsune that would become his soul.  There were playing cat and mouse in the Elysian Fields waiting for the call, for the pull to go back; for them both to go back.</p><p>No, he wouldn’t have his magic, but Peter would be having kittens when he saw what he had brought back with him.</p><p>Stiles couldn’t wait.  </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Lyrics and title borrowed from the Def Leppard track of the same name.</p><p>Written and posted November 2020</p></blockquote></div></div>
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